Destiny’s End
by Smego Baggins
Summary: My first LotR fic Be merciful. On October 6th Frodo Baggins is sick as usual. But his cousins and Sam suspect something when he isn't better the next morning. And so another journey begins. Except this is where Frodo's Destiny could End.
1. The Sickness of Frodo Baggins

Dis & A/N: I own nuttin'. This is my first Lord of the Rings fic so be merciful. I have no idea where anything is placed or some of the character's personality's. I've only just seen the movie and had people tell me basic facts about the books but so you don't like it then DON'T BLOODY READ IT!!!!  
  
A/N 2: If it sounds a little bit familiar in the beginning that's because there's another story like this called: And The Angels Were Silent but I started writing this before I found that out and this story has a twinst in it and also bit of an adventure so don't sue me Liz  
  
- - - -  
  
Any helpful hints would be greatly appreciated. It starts off crappy and ends . . . little bit better.  
  
Remember don't like don't review.  
  
All clarified?  
  
Oh, WAIT! I have to say just one more tiny thing…  
  
CHAPTERING IS CONFUSING!!!!  
  
Iz.  
  
- - - -  
  
Destiny's End  
  
Chapter 1: The Sickness of Frodo Baggins  
  
Frodo Baggins sighed again in pain. October 6. He hated it. He despised it. He wished he'd never heard of it. But, as he thought about it, it only came once a year and a day for that matter.  
  
Deciding a cup of tea was what he needed he got up off the comfy armchair and made his way to the kitchen. Thinking it was the easy part. Doing it was the trouble.  
  
When he had made his journey to the kitchen and while making his tea his mind wondered where Sam was than he remembered that he had gone to visit Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took which was half an hour's ride from where Frodo lived.  
  
Sam had hesitated saying that he should stay but Frodo had insisted that he go and have a good time, saying that he was fine and all would be well.  
  
Now he wished for him to be back even if it was only for him to worry about Frodo's health.  
  
Suddenly, a wave of nausea swept over Frodo and he tried to sit down but lost his balance and fell backwards taking an empty tea pot with him. He landed hard and the pot smashed in his hand causing it to slice his right hand's palm. He watched as his blood seeped out of the wound and pooled around his wounded limb and dribble through his fingers like tiny red waterfalls.  
  
A strange feeling came over him at that moment, a lightness all over his body and head. He realized that he was loosing consciousness and fast. His head and shoulder started to throb in time with his heart and the pounding soon became unbearable. Before he lost consciousness an obvious thought crossed his mind, I . . . I feel as if my head and shoulder are about to explode.  
  
And then blackness took over.  
  
~*~  
  
At the same time, somewhere else, Peregrin Took, Meriadoc Brandybuck and Samwise Gamgee better known as Pippin, Merry and Sam were at a little spring that was half covered by trees while the rest was showered by rich golden sunlight. It was hot, and they had decided to sit near the edge with their grubby feet dangling in the cool, clear water. Merry and Pippin were doing something or other but Sam just sat in the shallows letting the water lap coolly on his toes, lost in his own thoughts.  
  
They were having the time of their lives wetting each other in a water contest well, Merry and Pippin were but Sam wasn't really thinking about them he didn't really want to come, he'd have preferred to stay with Frodo just for today. He was worried sick because it was October 6 and Frodo had looked quiet sickly. He had lied in saying that the garden needed tending too but Frodo had seen through the lie and insisted that he go and, Sam, not wanting to get that 'go or I'll make you go' look from him, went, but with a dark shadow over his heart that said this was a bad idea.  
  
Merry and Pippin must have noticed their friends worried expression, so they both splashed Sam with water.  
  
"What's the matter? You look like you've been given a problem you can't solve?" Pippin said.  
  
"It's nothing . . . just . . . I'm worried about . . ." his voice trailed off. He looked at them and gave what he hoped was a happy smile but his eyes must have told a different story.  
  
Merry's face fell and he said, sighing. "Go and see if he's all right than. I'm telling you he's perfectly fine. Take Kingston and come back."  
  
Sam got up gratefully and mounted the black pony. He was just about to race off when he heard Pippin call.  
  
"We might as well go with you, it's on the way home."  
  
So they rode off, unaware of what awaited for them at Bag End.  
  
~*~  
  
"What could be taking him so long to open a door?" Pippin asked impatiently.  
  
"Well, it wasn't as through he was expecting us, was he?" Sam said sarcastically.  
  
"No. But do you think he'd mind?" Merry asked opening the door and walking in.  
  
Sam rolled his eyes and followed him in with Pippin behind.  
  
"I don't think he'd be too happy if we just barge in," Sam said.  
  
"We're not barging," said Merry. "We're entering. We are friends and well known at that so he has no reason to get mad." He quickly turned to Pippin.  
  
"Dose he?"  
  
Pippin shock his head behind Sam's back.  
  
Entering Bag End was like entering a forbidden part of the world. Silence. It was unsettling to hear . . . nothing, no movement, no sounds of life in the little hole.  
  
It was as if no one lived there.  
  
"Maybe he's out. Or taking a walk through the village. He's not exactly a 'homey person' anymore." Said Pippin.  
  
"No, he'd tell me where he was going. He wouldn't just disappear." Said Sam. "Right, you two take the house and I'll take the garden, give us a shout if you find him." And with that Sam ran out of the house to search the garden leaving the two to discover where Frodo was.  
  
~*~  
  
Merry looked at Pippin.  
  
"Well," he said, swinging his arms back and forward. "Shall we look for him?"  
  
So the search for Frodo began. First they searched the bedrooms while calling out his name, when they had finally reached the kitchen where they noticed that a chair was missing.  
  
"I think we've found him." Pippin said.  
  
Rushing around the side of the table the found that the chair and fallen along with a pot. The chair was on the ground beside Frodo but the pot was smashed on the floor which was slowly turning crimson from the blood that came forme Frodo's palm.  
  
"Frodo? Frodo? Can you hear me?" Pippin asked urgently.  
  
"I don't think he can, Pip, he's unconscious." Merry said.  
  
Merry put his hand on Frodo's forehead and looked up, worried. "He feels cold, it's like he's dead."  
  
Just then they heard Sam coming in.  
  
"I'll go an get him." Said Merry.  
  
He rushed off leaving Pippin alone to try to tend to his friends needs and try to stop the bleeding hand.  
  
Reaching over cautiously he pulled the right hand closer to him. Prying the hand open, he got a closer look at it. He saw, small, jagged, pieces in the cut. They were too small to get out with fingers alone so a smaller instrument was needed to pull them out like tweezers.  
  
Placing the hand down gently, Pippin reached up his hand and placed it blindly on the table searching for a table napkin or any type of cloth which he found after a few seconds of searching, grabbing it, he placed it carefully on Frodo's hand trying not to harm it further.  
  
" . . . when we found him in the kitchen. Pippin's seeing to him now."  
  
Merry came in followed by a distraught looking Sam, who looked like he was about to have a nervous-break down.  
  
Sam knelt down next to Frodo and checked his hand. Then put hut his own hand on his forehead.  
  
"He has a fever. We need to get him to bed before he gets worse."  
  
So the three carried Frodo to his spacious, comfy bed, then pulled the dense covers over him.  
  
"What do we do now?" asked Merry sombrely.  
  
"Wait, watch and see." Answered Sam not taking his eyes off Frodo.  
  
"I'll go and make a cup of tea. I know where Frodo keeps a spare tea pot." Said Pippin getting up and leaving the two to see what they could do.  
  
"Get two cloths one dry and the other cool along with a bowl of hot water." Called Sam to Pippin's retreating back.  
  
"What's the hot water for?" asked Merry confused.  
  
"To clean his hand up while I try to get all the stuff out of it." Sam stated.  
  
"Ow." Merry said.  
  
~*~  
  
The bed was so warm and comfortable that Frodo didn't want to open his eyes but a nagging at the back of his mind told him he had too or something bad would happen. He tried but his body seemed to have no strength in it. He felt like a new born baby.  
  
Suddenly he realized that he seemed weighted down by something that was on top of him. How odd? Then realization dawned on him that he was in bed. Was he really that sick? Or was he waking up from a deep sleep. He couldn't decide which conclusion sounded best so he thought he would wait and see what conclusion chose him.  
  
Surprisingly he realised he could hear voices, from far off at first but then they started to get louder for him to hear them clearly.  
  
"How is his hand?" asked a faraway voice  
  
"Well, I haven't got all the pieces out of it cause I don't want him waking, so I'll wait till tomorrow, then I can get the rest out. Until then I'll keep it bandaged up. Shouldn't do him too much harm." It was so loud that Frodo knew, whoever it was, they were sitting right next to his bed. Then it hit him who it was.  
  
Sam! It was Sam! He wanted to out a cry of joy for he wasn't alone but he's fevered body wouldn't allow him. The other voice sounded like it belonged to a stranger but Frodo knew he'd heard it somewhere before.  
  
With that thought in mind and that a friend was beside him Frodo slipped back into unconscious while the voices continued to talk.  
  
~*~  
  
Pippin stretched and yawned. "It's nearly nine, Sam, you might as well go and get some sleep, he's not getting any worse. He hasn't got a fever anymore so I say he'll be better by tomorrow. I'll take over until ten then Merry will, then you."  
  
"No. I'll be fine I don't need any sleep." Said Sam stubbornly.  
  
"Don't lie. You look dead on your feet, go rest, even for five minutes." Pippin insisted.  
  
Sam sighed and got up.  
  
"He'll be fine. I promise."  
  
"I'll be in the guestroom, okay?"  
  
"Go."  
  
"Goodnight." Said Sam heading to the guestroom reluctantly, thinking he wouldn't get much sleep that night.  
  
~*~  
  
Frodo had started to relax, leaning back into the soft pillow when, without warning, a wave of heat engulfed him. He gave a startled cry while it beard down on him like a heard of angary animals and no matter how much he tried he couldn't escape from it, he twisted, squirmed and yelled for help but to no avail.  
  
He could feel the hot sweat coming off him and he tried desperately to throw the covers off only he was to weak and tired.  
  
Whimpering, he gave up and let the fever burn him till a sweeping cold made him start to shake, but the odd thing was he still felt hot and sweaty.  
  
He felt something cold being put on his brow and some urgent whispering which he didn't understand and care to try too, instead letting whoever it was deal with this problem instead of him.  
  
~*~  
  
Pippin was reading one of Frodo's books while Merry was snoring quietly, his head cradled in his arms that rested on the mattress. It started to rain lightly against the windows and thunder could be heard far off from where they were but it was clear that the storm wouldn't come where they were.  
  
Then, without warning, Frodo cried out in what sounded like fear and surprise mixed in one. Pippin put the book down and walked over to Frodo's side.  
  
Putting his hand on Frodo's forehead Pippin was startled to find that it was burning with heat and beads of sweat started to appear on his red, face. Frodo cried out again but this time in pain and he seemed desperate to throw off whatever was on him. Pippin, who was holding Frodo's left hand, was at a lost of what to do when Merry came to the rescue by grabbing a cloth and dousing it in the bowl of cold water next to the bed. He wrung it out and placed it on the fevered Hobbit's head.  
  
The fever still raged and Frodo continued to whimper in pain. He then seemed to give up in fighting whatever it was he was fighting against and just layed still while whimpering.  
  
"Do you think I should wake Sam?" Pippin whispered urgently.  
  
"No, he seems to have settled down. Why worry and keep Sam up all night?"  
  
"You're right." Pippin agreed.  
  
"Besides I was thinking of not awaking him at all because all he'd do is take it upon himself to look after Frodo and leave us in the dark."  
  
"You think it wise? To leave Sam out of this?"  
  
"It's change over anyway." Merry said quickly, changing the subject. "I'll take over now."  
  
~*~  
  
An hour later Merry came and awoke Pippin saying that everything was fine, well as fine as you can get when you had a fever.  
  
He accompanied Pippin to the bedroom where they found Frodo tossing and squirming slightly in his unconscious sleep.  
  
Merry sat next to Frodo and took his cousin's cold, sweaty hand in both of his and rubbed his thumbs against the back of Frodo's left hand, wishing he could give him strength and make him well again. He got up but before he left Merry squeezed Frodo's hand and looked at him sadly, then he walked away to try the unattainable goal getting more sleep.  
  
~*~  
  
A suppressed cry woke Merry from his uneasy sleep and sent him racing into the bedroom where Pippin was trying to calm Frodo, who was thrashing weakly while holding his shoulder and crying out in pain.  
  
Pippin was holding Frodo as he looked up at Merry. He shook his head in dismay.  
  
"I . . . I do not know what is wrong! He was alright an hour ago then he started yelling and thrashing and . . . and what's the matter with him, Merry?"  
  
"I don't know but I've never seen it this bad before . . . I'll go and wake Sam. He'll know what to do."  
  
Merry rushed from the bedroom to the guest room where he found Sam asleep in a big leather armchair and hesitated to wake him. How would Sam take this? Watching his best friend cry out in pain and feel helpless. Shoving those thoughts aside he gently shook Sam awake.  
  
"Wh . . . what?" he asked confused, looking around.  
  
"It Frodo." Merry said simply. But it was enough to get Sam rushing from the room to Frodo's side.  
  
Sam knelt next to him, he started smoothed the hair out of his friends face which had a tormented expression, it was unpleasant to look at.  
  
"How long has he been like this?"  
  
"On and off for about an hour but I think for the last fifteen minutes it's been hell on him." Said Merry.  
  
Pippin, who was still cradling Frodo, looked at Sam and in a voice that told Sam he was afraid for Frodo's life said:  
  
"He's awfully shaky and his skin is as cold as ice but he's drenched in sweat! It's not normal! Not at all! And he's crying out as if in pain, which I'm sure as anything he is, he's getting worse as the hour goes. Not better."  
  
Sam racked his fingers through his hair and sighed defeated, he had no idea what to do and told Merry and Pippin such.  
  
"We can't do anything for him, then." Said Merry solemnly. "There's nothing here that would help and it's at least six days ride to Rivendell."  
  
They were all silent, a depressed, pessimistic silence.  
  
"I wish Gandalf was here," said Pippin sadly.  
  
"Well, we still have a few hours so me might get better." Merry said hopefully. "Right Pippin? Right?"  
  
But Pippin wasn't listening. He seemed more interested in the floor, then, all of a sudden, a look of quiet panic came on his face.  
  
"Look," he whispered. "Sunlight."  
  
"What?" Sam asked.  
  
"Just look." Said Merry, his eyes, which usually held endless mirth and mischief were replaced with cold dread.  
  
Sam glanced out of the window and looked at Frodo, who was still shaking and sweating tremendously. Outside the storm had stopped and the first warm rays of sunlight could just be seen creeping over the hills east of The Shire.  
  
"Sam something's severely wrong. He should be improving, not getting worse!" Merry said frantically.  
  
Sam stood there for a few minutes, wondering what to do and how to do it. He was thinking this when there was a nock at the door.  
  
He practically flew to the door, and upon opening it found Aragorn, king of Minas Tirith. Looking troubled and worried.  
  
"Aragorn!" said Sam surprised. "What in the name of Heaven are you doing here?"  
  
"I am here on a matter of great importance. I must see Frodo quickly for fear of what might happen may happen sooner."  
  
Sam was just about to respond when Merry came running out and started speaking so fast that both Aragorn and Sam had to calm him down to make sense of his speech.  
  
"Quick! He's bleeding! He's bleeding! Sam you've go to do something!" Merry said close to tears.  
  
"What? Where?" Sam said.  
  
"I don't know! He put his cut up hand to his shoulder and it came away all bloody."  
  
The trio hurriedly walked back to Frodo's room where they found him gasping as if someone was depriving him of air. His breaths came in short bursts and exhaled in painful moans.  
  
Aragorn walked to the bed, "Which hand is injured?"  
  
"The right one." Pippin said, still cradling Frodo, who was still shaking.  
  
Aragorn moved to the right side of the bed and took the wounded hand carefully slowly he unreaped it and looked at the palm.  
  
"What happened?" he asked.  
  
So the three launched into the retelling of how they had been enjoying a day of being careless and of how Sam was too worried to have any fun so they came here and found their friend unconscious in a pool of his own blood. How they had spent the whole night changing over to keep and eye on Frodo and now that his fever was reaching dangerous levels to which they all thought they were going to loose him.  
  
Aragorn listened quietly until they finished. When they had he got up and tried to look at Frodo's shoulder which was hard because Frodo was clutching it tightly with his left hand. Pippin got off the bed for Aragorn and stood next to Merry. Gently Aragorn preyed to hand off the shoulder and gasped in horror.  
  
"This isn't possible!" he breathed.  
  
"What's not possible, Aragorn?" asked Pippin.  
  
"It's the wound. It is bleeding as if it never were healed. Something is very wrong and I fear this is the cause of it all."  
  
"What do we do?" Sam asked desperately.  
  
"We take him to Rivendell, and fast."  
  
~*~  
  
Along the dirt road a little black pony called Kingston was galloping hard with two riders on his back. Following him very closely was Merry and Pippin who were on Brandy and Frost. Merry was on, Brandy, his brown high- spirited pony while Pippin was on, Frost, his white pony who was old but was used to galloping long distances.  
  
Sam had never been a good rider so he got Kingston, who was used to more inexperienced riders but was a hell of a lot faster than Frost or Brandy but he was also easier to handle when he went fast.  
  
Aragorn had gone on a few hours ahead to let Elrond and Gandalf know that they were coming and too be prepared.  
  
"How's he doing?" Merry called to Sam.  
  
"Not well, he's breathing's becoming more and more shallow, I don't know how much longer her can hold on for." Sam said he really sounded like he was crying.  
  
It was the third day of riding and frankly Frodo wasn't doing too well to it, also he was mumbling nonsense in his feverish state which sounded quiet disturbing.  
  
They pressed, on right into the night until daybreak. It sometime during the early hours of the fourth day when they were galloping through a forest along a river when Frost came down throwing Pippin two meters into the river. Luckily it's bottom was sand and the river was shallow so all Pippin had suffered was getting soaked, Frost, on the other hand, was on the ground coughing and trying to get his breath back.  
  
"Frost! You okay!" Pippin cried crawling over to where the elderly horse lay gasping.  
  
Pippin quickly looked him over and cried out in relief. No leg bones were broken, he was just exhausted and had collapsed.  
  
"Pippin! Pippin! Are you alright?" Merry called.  
  
"Yes, yes. Frost is just tired." Pippin yelled back.  
  
Marry jumped off Brandy and came running toward Pippin and Frost.  
  
"We need to get him up, you can stay behind and take your time when he is ready catch up as best as you can but be careful the next fall could both be your last."  
  
Sam had pulled up Kingston and looked around at the two.  
  
"Why have we stopped? We must keep going!"  
  
"Sam, the ponies are exhausted. If they run any more we'll be riding ghosts." Pippin said, patting Frost.  
  
"Are you saying that your pony's life is more important than Frodo's?" Sam asked furiously.  
  
"No, I am not. I'm just saying that we'll kill them if we keep riding them like this! It's inhumane! And if we lose them, then how will we get Frodo to Rivendell." Merry said. "Let us stop for a few minutes. Let the ponies get their breath back, than we'll keep riding."  
  
They rested for half an hour then started again Frost cantered instead of galloping, Sam was saying about how they had wasted time and every second was precious to them.  
  
For the next day or so Frodo seemed to stable in his condition not getting any worse then he was but not getting any better either.  
  
"Do you think it will pass?" Pippin asked Merry quietly seeing if his older cousin could ease his fears.  
  
"I don't know Pip, let's see what happens first." Merry said, only adding to Pippin's doubts.  
  
"My legs are getting sore," he complained carefully so Sam wouldn't hear him.  
  
"Your legs are sore?" said Merry. "Think how Frostie's are doing."  
  
"It's Frost not Frostie."  
  
~*~  
  
The vast blackness seemed to go on forever. Here there was no protection, no love, or light. Only cold reality. Frodo was lost. He knew that much and no one he knew could he see, people walked past him but took no notice of him.  
  
"Help me, master!"  
  
He quickly turned around, he could hear someone or something crying out for help but he couldn't see them. He couldn't see his friend either.  
  
"Help me, master, before it's to late!"  
  
"Where are you." Frodo called out.  
  
"Right here." Said a cold voice.  
  
"YOU!" cried Frodo.  
  
~*~  
  
"Are we there yet?" Pippin asked.  
  
"Nearly, a few more hours." Sam called.  
  
"Thank goodness." Pippin mumbled.  
  
It was the sixth day and the four hobbits were getting closer to Rivendell by the minute. The ponies were sweating hard but they had somehow gathered more speed as if they were Elf-ponies instead.  
  
An hour later Merry cried out in triumph. "Look it is the waterfall of Rivendell! We are here!"  
  
The three Hobbits cheered and the ponies whinnied along with them for Brandy, Frost and Kingston knew it meant they could have a well earned rest.  
  
They pressed on filled with a new hope. Then out ahead of them they saw a lone figure standing in the middle of the road waving his arm.  
  
It was Legolas! But what was he doing here?  
  
"If my ears and eyes do not deceive me I can hear three tired little ponies heading this way!" he called as a way of greeting.  
  
"Legolas? What are you doing here?" Pippin said, pulling Frost right up next to him.  
  
Legolas studied Sam and Frodo on Kingston and noticed how sickly he looked.  
  
"That is not of any impotence right now, so Aragorn was telling the truth, he is sick then?"  
  
"Yes." Said Sam. "Legolas your hose is faster than our ponies will you take him to Elrond?"  
  
"I m sorry, but I can not." He said sadly. "My horse was shot down on my ride here, and is recovering from it. He is deeply spooked and will let no one not even me to tend to him."  
  
"Then I will head on before it is to late." And Sam pushed Kingston in to a full gallop. Leaving Merry and Pippin with the elf.  
  
"Aragorn wanted to meet you where Frodo was healed last!" Legolas called to the galloping Hobbit he then turned to the other two. "After everything has been done for Frodo Elrond wants to meet you and Sam in a meeting, I will see you there." And he ran into the forest.  
  
"What do you think that was all about." Merry asked. Pippin shrugged and pushed Frost into a canter.  
  
When they had caught up with Sam, they found him not heading toward the place where Aragorn had said to be. Instead they found him on the ground leaning over Frodo and a look of worry growing on his face.  
  
"What has happened?" Merry asked urgently.  
  
"I was near the entrance to Rivendell, when Frodo had gasped and almost stopped breathing I had to dismount and since I've layed him here his breathing has almost returned to normal."  
  
The three hobbits looked at Frodo with growing worry and fear that he my not make it. If it was getting this bad than how would they get to where he could be healed? Would, no, could he hold on a few minutes longer?  
  
Frodo face was pale but it felt as hot as boiling water and drenched in sweat, but his hands and feet were as cold as ice. He constantly shook as if he was outside on a winters day without his beloved green cloak.  
  
As Sam was pushing back Frodo's hair from his sweaty face he began to stir.  
  
"Sam?" he asked weakly. "Where am I? I do not know this place."  
  
"You should," said Merry, smiling slightly. "It is Rivendell, home of Elrond."  
  
"Wha . . .," he breathed hard trying to get breath. "What am I .. I doing here?"  
  
"You're sick, Frodo. We've been trying to get you to Elrond. He will be able to heal you."  
  
"I think you maybe too late for that . . ." Frodo's voice trailed off. His eyes became misted over and he closed his eyes then went limp in Sam's arms.  
  
"No," Sam whispered. "No Frodo, not when we're so close to our goal!"  
  
He began to weep and his shoulders shook with grief.  
  
"Get ELROND!!" he yelled at Merry and Pippin, who started and then flew to where they hoped to find the Half-Elvan Healer.  
  
~*~  
  
Aragorn waited impatiently for the hobbits to make their entrance. He had sent Legolas to see if he could find them. He returned and said they were all looking exhausted and Frodo looked like death could take him at any minute.  
  
This had worried Aragorn further so he mounted his horse and galloped down the road. A few minutes later he came across a running Merry and Pippin who looked upset and distress. He pulled his streed up next to them.  
  
"Where is Sam and Frodo?" he asked.  
  
Merry tried to steady his pony but Brandy was too exhited from the run. And while he did that he told Aragorn the facts.  
  
"Legolas had just left us and we caugh up with Sam but he was on the ground holding Frodo, so we asked what had happened and he told us that Frodo had nearly stopped breathing. Then he came around and was confused because he didn't know where he was. Then his eyes isted over and he went limp. And we went to search for Elrond."  
  
Without a word Aragorn threw his horse into a hard gallop, he had to get there before it was too late, otherwise all would be lost.  
  
  
  
A/N 3: When I read this chapter to my sister she looked at me and burst into tears saying: "He only wanted a cup of tea!" She's 8 so what do you expect?  
  
Don't know when next chapter will be up, don't care either. So just wait and see. 


	2. The Ring Returns

Dis for the whole story cause I can't be bothered to write one for every chapter: I OWN NUTTIN'  
  
A/N: Now I know it was a little confusing to begin with like Aino Fuyu pointed out THANKS!!  
  
NOW. It does take place AFTER The Return of the King BUT they haven't gone to the Grey Heavens YET! Don't kill me cause I've only seen the movie and read a chapter of the Fellowship of the Ring.  
  
It takes a twist later on in this chapter so just be ready for it. This one took me TWO MONTHS to write and I would appreciate it if people (LIKE KIREN) didn't bitch to me about the length in waiting, if you want it written well then expect to wait. I apologise for spelling errors and anything else you can bitch about.  
  
If you want to know when I upload then I'll contact you by email but you don't have to give me the address if you don't feel want to.  
  
  
  
For my Rat, Marco (Mr Rat)  
  
The laughter in my day  
  
  
  
Chapter 2: The Ring Returns  
  
Galloping hard and fast Aragorn felt like he was racing against time, and he had a feeling time was winning this fearsome race.  
  
As soon as he had spotted Sam and a fallen Frodo, he pulled off the road and dismounted the horse then ran over to the hobbit, who was weeping.  
  
"Sam what is the matter?" he asked fearing the worst.  
  
"You are too late . . ." he sobbed to Aragorn. "You can't bring him back. Even Elrond won't be able too."  
  
Aragorn looked at the hobbits anguished face, knelt down next to Sam and the still Frodo. Frodo was deathly pale and looked as though he had just died a few minutes earlier. In sorrow, Aragorn layed his hand onto Frodo's chest and began to weep.  
  
"All is lost then," Aragorn thought miserably.  
  
Then something caught him off guard.  
  
A heartbeat. Slow and unsteady, but still that meant. . .  
  
"Sam he's not dead. But he's very near it."  
  
"What?" Sam asked wiping his eyes.  
  
"He is not dead! He is alive. I can fell life in his chest. But we must hurry because if we are any later he may just die."  
  
"My pony is too tired to go any faster. By the time we get there it may be too late!" Sam wailed.  
  
"Than you will ride with me. My horse is fast and strong and two more riders will be nothing to him."  
  
First he got Frodo in front of him, than Sam behind. He checked that Sam had a hold on him (in fact he was clutching Aragorn tightly around the waist with his eyes firmly closed.) and that Frodo wouldn't fall off. With that he pressed his horse again into a hard gallop.  
  
Sam opened his eyes a fraction and looked behind him. Kingston, to his surprise, was following at a gallop that Sam thought wasn't possibly for a pony his size.  
  
Kingston whinnied as if to say: 'You are not getting rid of me that easy, Samwise Gamgee.'  
  
Sam smiled and thought what a wonderful little pony he was.  
  
~*~  
  
Merry and Pippin raced right through Elves dwelling's and within minutes were confronted by two Elves who looked as through they had never seen someone in such a hurry.  
  
The one who had black hair and green eyes looked a little curious while the one who looked like Legolas a little startled.  
  
"We . . . are . . . looking . . . fo-" Merry panted.  
  
"Elrond?" asked the Elf with black hair and green eyes.  
  
"Yes! Please tell us where he is." Pippin said frantically.  
  
"He is in the Last House. Awaiting for a sick Frodo." Said the second elf pointing in the direction that Merry and Pippin sought.  
  
"Thank you!" With that they both dashed off.  
  
They burst into the room, much to the annoyance of Elrond, but when he saw the looks on both faces his features softened.  
  
"What crisis calls for you two to burst in without an invitation." He asked of the two exhausted hobbits before him.  
  
"It's Frodo." Pippin said breathlessly. "He's taken a turn for the worse."  
  
Elrond went very quiet for a few seconds, and he looked like he was pondering something, but then he was on his feet and followed the two distressed hobbits but before they got to the end of the corridor, they spotted Aragorn, Sam, Gandalf, and an unconscious Frodo who was in Aragorn's arms, heading their way.  
  
"We must get him in there immediately. He is fevered and the heat in him is rising." Aragorn said.  
  
They set Frodo down on the soft mattress and Elrond began working. He glanced at something then looked up confused. "What did he do to his hand?"  
  
So the three hobbits launched again into the story of how they found Frodo and the broken teapot.  
  
After they had told the story Elrond sent them all out of the room but called for Gandalf to stay with him saying he would need his help.  
  
Samwise, Meriadoc and Peregrin stood facing the closed door, Pippin with his mouth slightly open in shock. They stood in silence the air tingled with a force that made out if you uttered a single sound the one who you wanted to survive would perish.  
  
"Someone's going to have to tell Bilbo." Came a grave voice from behind that made them all jump. They turned around and found that it was Aragorn who had spoken.  
  
"Doesn't he know yet?" Sam asked his voice quivering.  
  
"I had just arrived at Rivendell and was told that I should get you four here and fast. Only I wasn't expecting Frodo to be ill."  
  
"I'll tell him." Said Pippin quietly. He turned around and started the search for Bilbo when Merry and Sam called out for him.  
  
"We'll come too." Merry said while Sam nodded behind his back.  
  
They walked through the beautiful scenery of Rivendell's corridors but neither of them noticed, instead their thoughts were on Frodo, but mostly of Bilbo. How would the old hobbit take the news? Most likely he would be worried and would ask Elrond if he could see Frodo.  
  
"There he is." Sam said pointing to a figure hunched over a book.  
  
Without another word they hurriedly made their way to the ageing hobbit. When they were at the doorway to his opened room he looked up a gasp of delight.  
  
"My goodness, this is certainly a surprise." He said looking the three hobbits. "Now what can bring you three all the way from the Shire?"  
  
They glanced nervously at each other and Bilbo's happy face fell a little. A look of seriousness came into his eyes. "What have you done this time Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took and how did Samwise get involved?"  
  
Pippin swallowed. "It has nothing to do with us Bilbo,"  
  
Bilbo's face fell further. "Well, then tell me, you silly hobbit!"  
  
"It's Frodo, Bilbo." Pippin said quietly here."  
  
The older hobbits face lightened up at the mention of his favourite cousin. "Well, where is my dear boy then?"  
  
Merry shifted uncomfortably and started to play with his fingers behind his back, much like a child being caught doing something he shouldn't have been doing.  
  
"Bilbo. He is not here to visit we brought him here because . . . he . . . he's very ill."  
  
Bilbo sat stunned for a few seconds, then he looked at Sam asking him silently with his eyes if this news was real he both nodded then looked away not wanting to see the old hobbits heart shatter at the news.  
  
There was an uncomfortable silence that took hold and Pippin shifted in it's presence he was never one to be still in the silence of gloom.  
  
"Elrond may let us see him if we go back, he may have woken up." He said trying to life everyone's spirits. Unfortunately, it lifted no ones spirits. Bilbo gave a nod and stood up.  
  
~*~  
  
As soon as the mysterious voice had appeared it melted back into silence. Frodo sat down from the shock and suddenly realised he felt slightly cold but tried to ignore it. It would have worked but the cold slowly spread it's way along his tired body and seized control of him. It was harder to breath and all Frodo wanted was for this to end. He was alone and he felt helpless to do anything. His shoulder was paining him more and more with the hour until it became so intense that all he wanted to do was fall in a heap and cry until the pain went away or he slipped into a deeper blackness. Why it hadn't ended in the day was beyond Frodo.  
  
All he just wanted simply was to wake up and see Merry, Pippin and Sam. He missed them terribly and remembered the last time he had seen Sam. He looked worried and close to tears. Looking around he didn't recognise the surroundings until Merry had said it was Rivendell. Rivendell? Was he that sick? It seemed like the conclusion that he had thought of earlier had finally chosen him. And it wasn't the one he was hoping for.  
  
During the talk to Sam he felt a presence pull him back into unconsciousness but he felt that it was trying to pull him further than that. A terror filled Frodo. He knew that feeling. Death. But somehow his body fought and won, then it made the exhausting task of trying to gain conscious it did but only slightly so he was part aware what was happening. A while later he felt himself being lifted and movement much like the motion of horse-riding.  
  
While this was happening he tried curled up into a ball hoping to get warm again, though he was having his doubts. Then the heat returned and it steadily grew until he was sweating buckets of water.  
  
Someone or something lifted, then carried him in their strong arms and for a funny reason he felt safe. He clutched his shoulder moaned pain.  
  
He was then layed on something soft and cool which made his body give an involuntary shudder at the sudden coldness applied to his hot and fevered back.  
  
After a few minutes or a few a hours he could not tell, his head began to throb from the consent ache in his shoulder and a groan escaped his cracked lips. He then felt someone massaging his forehead which helped the throb to lessen. This, at least, was some relief, sighing his mind relaxed and cessed thinking for awhile.  
  
~*~  
  
When they had reached the room where Frodo was, Gandalf was waiting for them and when he saw Bilbo he welcomed him like a long lost friend.  
  
"Bilbo, how good to see you if only it were of better times." The wizard said.  
  
"You too, Gandalf," said Bilbo sadly. "Please tell me. How is he?"  
  
Gandalf breathed heavily through his nose. "It's not looking too good at the moment. Elrond is not sure what is making him so ill, but whatever it is he seems to be fighting it. So he's not going anywhere anytime soon."  
  
Bilbo studied his friends face for a few seconds before asking. "Do you think he will live Gandalf?"  
  
"If he is strong enough, which I know he is, he might recover with nothing more than nightmares."  
  
"I hope so Gandalf, for I don't know what I'd do if I lost him." Bilbo said sadly.  
  
"Do not think of that," Gandalf said, waving his hand. "Just think of the present."  
  
Gandalf put his hand on the hobbits shoulder and guided him to the oak door which had Frodo behind it's wondrous carvings which showed of times and lands long forgotten.  
  
Before they nocked Elrond opened the door and came out looking as if he were pondering a puzzle of which the pieces were starting to fall into place Gandalf and Bilbo, however, broke his train of thought.  
  
All at once the four hobbits pounced and asked if their friend was alright, when he would awake and other such questions until Elrond held up his hand meaning he needed silence.  
  
"To answer the first question thrown at me: No, he is not awake and is too weak to be woken at the moment. I have healed his hand but am bewildered why the old wound of his shoulder looks as if it has never been healed. I suspect it has something to do with my theories."  
  
"And what are these theories?" Merry asked, hoping to get a clear answer.  
  
Instead all he got was, "I am not sure they are true and I will not speak them until they are."  
  
This just made everyone suspicious of what Elrond was planning for Frodo later.  
  
"I need to know what happened." Was he's next sentence.  
  
"Well, Peregrine, Samwise and I were out for the day and decided to go to Bag End because we hadn't seen Frodo for a while. When we got there he didn't answer the door so we let ourselves in but saw no evidence saying he was at home. Now he usually tells Sam when he's going somewhere but this time he hadn't so we got really worried and began to search for him. Sam took the garden while Pip and I took the house. We had nearly stopped searching when we noticed a chair overturned in the kitchen and that's where we found him his hand bleedin' and everything."  
  
This made Bilbo more determined to see Frodo, mostly to see if Meriadoc's tale was really true.  
  
"Elrond, I must see him!" Bilbo blurted out. "I . . . I need to know if this is all true."  
  
"Of course, Bilbo." Elrond said solemnly and he led the aged hobbit to where Frodo was and closed the door behind them.  
  
"If only we had came sooner, none of this would have happened." Pippin said sadly.  
  
"Don't blame something that has already happened," Merry said sitting down. "It still would have been the same result."  
  
"Yes! But we should have known something was wrong from the start! Then we could have brought him sooner rather than later, he could be well again, Merry!" Pippin exploded.  
  
Only Sam was silent. He saw no use in getting between the cousins argument although he quietly agreed with Pippin.  
  
~*~  
  
The conscious is a powerful thing. It can lead a man to victory yet ruin another in guilt. It has a voice that reminds us when and how to do a certain thing in life, but this voice can be silent for years on end and will only resurface when an event of either grief or joy triggers it.  
  
And it was this same voice that was in Bilbo's mind that was condemning with what the old hobbit had done years before.  
  
'If only I never found the blasted ring, none of this would have happened.' Said Bilbo, raking his nervous hands through his curly, now white, hair. 'He wouldn't have to go through this torment.'  
  
His self-loathing was doing nothing to suppress the memories of his encounter with the wicked creature Gollum. He had found the ring quite by mistake and not knowing of it's terrible power pocketed it. Only years later did Gandalf realise that the ring was evil.  
  
He had never expected Frodo to take it upon himself and his friends to try to complete the journey to Mount Doom. It was only when he had found out that his boy had been injured that he felt despair take hold of his heart. If he couldn't make it that far then how was he expected to survive? Yet Frodo's courage and pure heart showed again and he came back but he was different. He was not the fun loving person anymore not like Meriadoc and Peregrin. He seemed to take things more seriously and looked as if he'd lost his innocence.  
  
He watched the young face and placed his hand on Frodo's forehead. It was hot and clammy which showed that the fever wasn't going to give in without a fight and it was putting one up to match each and everybody's nerves.  
  
He was scared he would lose him, like he lost he dear cousin, Drogo, so many years ago. He had his fathers bright, blue and curious eyes and dark brown ringlets but had his mothers love for life and this would probably save his very life.  
  
All Bilbo had to do was wait and see.  
  
Frodo gave a slight moan and put his newly healed hand on his forehead and it looked like he was attempting to rid of something as he weakly pushed at his face.  
  
Bilbo's thoughts wondered back to when Frodo was still a baby and still had his parents, Drogo and Primula before they had died in a boating accident. He remembered when he had a slight fever and wouldn't settle for his mother. So Bilbo took his favourite cousin and hushed the child by rubbing his thumb up and down the bridge of the child's nose. After the massage, he had slept soundly and awoke the next morning as if he never had a fever.  
  
Bilbo attempted this again and instantly Frodo seemed to settle slightly, although the red colour in his face didn't lighten and the hotness and clamminess was still rising more but maybe, as Bilbo thought, dragging himself away from the past and in to the present, this was the fevers last battle.  
  
He never knew how right he was...  
  
~*~  
  
The darkness was growing thicker, and it was getting harder to breath and keep warm but the fever was still rising. But through this Frodo wanted desperately to open his eyes and put everyone's worries to rest.  
  
He was exhausted but his willpower was as strong as ever and he soon found himself leaving the culches of darkness for a time and opening his eyes to see his relieved uncle.  
  
~*~  
  
Bilbo watched as Frodo's eyes started to flutter open. But they weren't clear, instead they were glazed over in pain and fever but he seemed to be taking in his surroundings.  
  
"Bilbo?" his voice cracked, "What are you doing here?"  
  
Bilbo smiled slightly, "I live here, my boy."  
  
"Rivendell?" Frodo muttered confused. "I remember Sam and Merry talking to me about bringing me here but after that my memory is nothing afterwards."  
  
"Well of course it would be you've been unconscious for little over a week." Bilbo replied. "Which reminds me I need to and tell Elrond that you are awake. I am sure Meriadoc, Peregrin and mostly poor Samwise will be overjoyed your back." And with that Bilbo got up to get the people whom he had just spoken about when he was stopped by Frodo who had grabbed his shirts sleeve.  
  
"Before you go can you get me an extra blanket because it feels like winter in here."  
  
"Why would you want a blanket on a beautiful day like this?" Bilbo wondered out loud.  
  
"I am cold, Bilbo." Frodo said simply.  
  
"But you are boiling," Bilbo said getting a little worried at his cousin's request and statement. "Is that all that is wrong?"  
  
"I also cannot breath properly, I feel as if each breath is stolen as soon as it is in my chest." He said gasping slightly.  
  
Bilbo, who had completely forgotten about the blanket, hurried out of the room and ran right into Aragorn. He took one look at Bilbo's completely white face and, without a word, he raced off to find Elrond.  
  
While Aragorn had disappeared from view Bilbo, feeling slightly reassured, walked back into the room and sat next to the bed.  
  
"Elrond is coming. He will be here shortly." Bilbo said and pushed Frodo's curly but mattered hair back but it just flopped back into it unnatural place.  
  
"I wish it would be sooner, my chest is becoming tighter." Frodo gasped trying to get a full breath but failing.  
  
Bilbo became extremely worried and took hold of Frodo hand. He found it extremely cold and his worry rosed into panic mode.  
  
"Where is Elrond?" he asked himself savagely.  
  
"I am right here. What is the matter?" he asked but he didn't need an answer for he saw Frodo on the bed gasping for breath.  
  
"How long has he been like this?" Elrond asked urgently.  
  
"A little over ten minutes." Bilbo stuttered  
  
"Then there may still be hope." The elf lord said. He looked down and noticed Frodo was still awake. "Try to relax, until I get the right herbs."  
  
Bilbo noticed Frodo's eyes seemed to go in the back in his head but he knew he was being silly and rolling them in sarcasm.  
  
Elrond left the bedroom and Aragorn came beside the bed and peeled back the shirt and bandage revealing the wound which was bleeding profusely. Around the wound the area was an ugly crimson tinged with a slight greenish colour.  
  
Aragorn muttered something under his breath and placed the bandage and cloth back in place. He looked at Frodo's flushed face, and Bilbo saw self- hatred in Aragorn's eyes.  
  
'But why is he hating himself?' the hobbit wondered but was cut from further thought from the look of fear he saw in his nephew's eyes.  
  
"It becoming harder for him to breath!" Bilbo said alarmed. "Can't you do anything for him?"  
  
"There's little we can do at the moment, only Elrond has the herbs that can ease Frodo's suffering."  
  
Bilbo sat on the bed and took his nephew in his arms, he soothed the matted and damp curls which were frizzled up due to the face that Frodo had been in bed for over a week.  
  
Elrond returned a few minutes later with a small pouch of herbs of some kind.  
  
"Frodo if you do not relax it will get worse!" Elrond said.  
  
"I . . . am relaxed! My . . . chest . . . is doing . . . this . . . on . . . it's own . . ." suddenly his body gave a terrible shudder and took Frodo's conscious with it.  
  
Frodo went limp in Bilbo's arms and did not awake when Elrond shook or called for him to open his eyes.  
  
Bilbo layed him down carefully and looked up at Elrond frightened. "What happened?"  
  
"I am not sure but I think we need to get to the bottom of this." The elf replied grimily.  
  
~*~  
  
The darkness consumed him as he screamed for more time and mercy.  
  
"WAIT!!" he yelled pleadingly. "I WANT TO AT LEAST GOOD-BYE!!!"  
  
When it did not lighten around him he fell to the ground in dispair. Emotions, that had layed in wait since the day his parents had died, resurfaced.  
  
'I am lost,' he thought finally, as tears fell down his hot face. 'I am never to see my friends again, not until they walk the same path.'  
  
Then from somewhere deep within his very own soul came a voice. "Do not let go yet. Your time is not now but it is near. Don't give up when the hope dies down. Re-light it. And let it burn with all the power it has." And with that the tiny voice was gone, but it left an affect on Frodo's esteem.  
  
'No,' he thought a little of his strength coming to him, 'my time is not now, I can feel it. The darkness is trying to consume me earlier. But I won't let it get that satisfaction.'  
  
The heat and now the shaking were still raging through his body but he knew if he fought, he would live to see another day.  
  
'If only that day would come sooner.' He said to himself mournfully  
  
Don't give up when the hope dies down. Re-light it. And let it burn with all the power it has.  
  
And that was exactly what Frodo was going to do.  
  
~*~  
  
"So you think you know what's causing this grief?" Aragorn asked as he leaned against the wall in Frodo's room.  
  
"I indeed do." Elrond said heavily. "When he was brought here last because of the injury at Weathertop I managed to remove the shard from him without any trouble. That was the start of my doubts, because nothing from the darkness comes to good willingly."  
  
"And you think that the shard was a dud?" Legolas asked confusion setting in.  
  
"Yes," Elrond said, conforming uncertain thoughts. "I believe it was, but inside the dud was a true shard. And when it surfaced the dud released the real one which layed in wait."  
  
"Layed in wait for what?" Bilbo asked from his chair next to Frodo.  
  
"For the right time to kill him. But he defeated Sauron and with him the ring. Only it now turns out it was not completely destroyed."  
  
Sam stood up. "But it was sir, beggen your pardon, me and Mr Frodo watched it fall with that wicked creature, Gollum. So there's no way it could have not been destroyed."  
  
Elrond smiled gently. "Samwise did you see the ring go into the fire?"  
  
Sam blinked. "No Mr Elrond I did not." And he sat down.  
  
"And now it's trying to kill him because Sauron wasn't destroyed." Gimli said.  
  
"Exactly," was Elrond's reply.  
  
"Well, why don't you just remove it?" Merry said speaking up for the first time.  
  
"I have already taken care of that a few minutes ago I placed herbs that drawl out the shard then hopefully he will find he's own way back to us." Elrond said looking at the shaking and fever-ridden hobbit.  
  
~*~  
  
"Hold him!" Elrond yelled to Legolas and Aragorn as they struggled to hold onto the squirming Frodo.  
  
During the short meeting Frodo's fever had gone down till he looked normal then without warning it came back with vengeance. It was attempting to take to take him before their very eyes.  
  
"There it is!!" cried Sam. Jumping up and down in excitement.  
  
"Gandalf pass the tweezers!" Elrond commanded. Seconds later the tweezers were probing the wound which was turning blue but was pulsing blood like the Ford.  
  
"I can not see!" Elrond said frustrated then . . . "I have it!"  
  
Slowly and carefully be pulled the tiny shard out of Frodo's shoulder, the bleeding reduced to a dribble but it slowly returned to a healthy pink.  
  
"All is well now." Elrond said cleaning the wound with warm water that had Kingsfoil in it. "All we have to do now is wait for him to wake.  
  
"But he is still hot. Shouldn't it be gone now?" Pippin asked letting go of his cousins ankles.  
  
"Yes . . ." Gandalf said vaguely. "It seems there is more to this then we first thought."  
  
~*~  
  
Three days later a meeting was called for the Fellowship. All except Frodo, who was still a little to week to walk, had come, including Bilbo.  
  
"This meeting is here to decide the fate of the ring and Frodo." Elrond said. "As you all know by now it wasn't destroyed but it probably had enough power to disappear and fall on the ledge. I know all of you have been through great perils and wish never to see them again, and I assure you that you will not for the dark lord was destroyed but we must not risk it to give him a chance to come back is monstrous."  
  
"And Frodo? What about Frodo? What has this got to do with him?" Merry asked.  
  
Elrond sighed. "And as long as the Ring exists is as long as Frodo will be ill."  
  
"But he is well and shows no sign of his fever or any sickness and his shoulder wound is healed again ." Pippin argued.  
  
"Yes but it will get worse as each year goes by next year we may not be so lucky as we we're this time."  
  
"What might happen if the ring is destroyed." Bilbo asked finally.  
  
Elrond gave Bilbo a look that said he would rather discus that in privet. But the question was said and couldn't be taken back.  
  
"The evil that is in the ring in also in Frodo. But . . ." he said at the looks and whispers of protest that  
  
erupted. "It does not mean that Frodo is in it's clutches. It simply means that if the ring is destroyed . . . it may take Frodo with it."  
  
Of all the questions that had been asked and answered all had thought they knew the answer. But this showed the exact opposite.  
  
There was more outrage to this.  
  
Legolas stood up, his eyes flashing. "So you are saying that if we do this again we may actually kill the ring-bearer, one of our own?"  
  
Elrond also stood in anger. "I did not say that it will I said simply that it might. But there is a good chance that it could. I am asking you, not forcing you, to take this quest again."  
  
Apart from Legolas's angry breathing, all was quiet.  
  
"Please don't be angary at me for how the future works out, I can't control it." Elrond said.  
  
"We must find a new ring-bearer." Legolas said calmly. "He has done much already and he does not need to lose his life for what could be a theory."  
  
Nearby Frodo heard everything and made up his mind. He rushed as quickly as his body would let him and reached the stables where he found Frost, Brandy and Kingston eating oats. He did a double take and realised they had Bill with them.  
  
"Well how did you get here?" he chuckled patting Bill's muzzle. "Sam will be surprised won't he my old friend."  
  
Still smiling he tacked Kingston up and quickly gathered supplies for the trip ahead. Frodo mounted and set off at a trot and when he was clear he cantered the rest of the way out of the valley.  
  
Back in the court all ready to go on a journey that would be much less dangerous and shorter.  
  
"When will we set off?" Aragorn asked.  
  
"Whenever is comfortable with you people."  
  
"I'll go and get ponies ready." Pippin said walking out.  
  
"Then everything is set," said Legolas. "Though I feel like we are betraying Frodo by not taking him with us."  
  
"Don't worry. He's a strong boy he can take it well," Bilbo said, and walked out to his room for a nap.  
  
Suddenly Pippin ran back into the court looking distressed and angry.  
  
"Kingston's gone." He said.  
  
"Maybe one of the elves took him to a -." Marry began but was cut off.  
  
"And so is Frodo."  
  
"WHAT?" Gandalf thundered.  
  
"My pony. He's gone and nicked my pony." Was all Pippin could say in disbelief at what Frodo had gone and done. 


	3. A Note regarding Destiny’s End

A Note regarding to Destiny's End  
  
Believe it or not I was meant to put this at the end of the second chapter but I DELETED IT!!!  
  
So here's the original. So bear with me.  
  
A/N: No puns from my sister this time but chapters will be slow in comin because I'm a slow writer that and the fact that I'm on the Canobolas Rural Show Team (we show Angoras; a goat that looks like a sheep, Diary's such as Anglo-Nubians, British Alpines and Saana's)  
  
I will be gone for TWO WEEKS and without a COMPUTER!!! But don't worry I'll keep writing. By hand if I HAVE TOO!!  
  
A Special Thankyou to All who reviewed.  
  
Vicky: If it's more you want than it's more you'll get!  
  
Aino Fuyu: Yes I'm having it take place after RotK but I think is a alternate ending.  
  
Kitana: I'm a Big sap for Frodo/Sam torture too but I'm not making it a slash or any type of romance (unless you want him to get it on with Kingston the Pony ::Shudders::)  
  
QuickSilverNut: I like Frodo and Legolas so how's that for COMPITION? I think I'm a little thick but what do you mean by Quote "stop making the people say what you just said while you were narrating"?  
  
Arwen Elessar: You'll just have to keep reading and find out. Your real names Mithril? COOL!  
  
Cold fire zorra: Short and sweet. Glad you like it.  
  
Spot's Fairy: YES YOU HAVE TO WAIT!!! I'll try to finish it as fast as I can.  
  
OC: Don't worry my sister says a lot of strange things like she was reading a few nights ago "The Choice of Master Samwise" when Sam had the phile and she screamed "DAMN YOU Sam!!! Give Frodo the GOD DAMNED TORCH!" I think she skipped a few sentances.  
  
Ashleigh: NOOOOOOOO!!!! Don't go crazy! I need all the readers I can get.  
  
Renee: glad to hear that you liked it.  
  
Lionel Dark: NO I WILL NOT BOW down to you. Which fic did you want me to review?  
  
Phoenix Ice: What do ya mean as bad as you thought? Don't worry I thought the same when the idea popped in my head.  
  
Liz huisman: OH MY GOD!!! YOU ARE MY FAVEOURITE WRITER!!! Thankyou for reviewing!!!  
  
Emma: Hang on girl it should be in by the end of June.  
  
Angel: I'll email you when each chapter is up, K?  
  
Eowyn: ::Blushes:: I feel loved.  
  
Matrixchick: I don't know if he lives or not Kingston(the little black pony) is still teling me the story.  
  
Samdro87: One the best you've ever read? COOL ::dances around like an idiot while getting weird staires from her rat Marco and budgie Patrick:: THANKS ::grines stupiedly::  
  
I was wondering what you people say or do if I . . . uh . . . killed off Frodo in the next chapter?  
  
Nyree(my best friend) say's she'll disembowl me with a rusty hook if I do while Karina and Trudi are telling me how to do it slowly and painfully.  
  
BUT I HAVEN'T DECIDED YET PEOPLE!!  
  
But who do YOU reckon needs to kick the bucket Frodo or Kingston?  
  
Sorry that chapter was boring and slow but I was going though a writers block at the time. (Still am)  
  
See ya  
  
Iz 


	4. On A Quest Without The Fellowship

A/N: Guess what? Third chapter. YARRR HOOOO!!!!  
  
I've just started writing this chapter and the time is . . . 3:45 on a Saturday afternoon on February 16th 2002.  
  
I wanted to see what the date was when I finish it so bear with me please :-)  
  
I hope you have enjoyed reading this as much as I have enjoyed writing it, unlike some people (remember my sister's reaction?).  
  
I would like to apologise for the waiting on the chapters but it's hard being in year 9, handling a stubborn goat called Cleo, and being in a musical called Annie (cough, gag, spew.)  
  
For my friends: Nyree, Karina (Kari), Trudi, Ericka and lastly Sarah,  
  
For nagging me to keep writing and not to let life get in the way of laughter.  
  
Chapter 3: On A Quest Without The Fellowship  
  
For two days now Frodo had ridden Pippin's little pony, Kingston, out of Rivendell's wondrous surroundings. He was thankful that Kingston step was light-footed because his shoulder still pained him. But it was a bearable ache. The wound had begun to bleed again, seeping slowly into the fabric, but no matter how much Frodo packed it with spare rages it still managed to show a red patch on his left side.  
  
The air round him grew chilly and he wished he had brought his extra cloak and maybe another thick woollen blanket along with him for the long, long quest ahead.  
  
'Now, now.' He thought, 'don't want to overload the poor beast, he has a long way to go and you don't want to exhaust him before the trip has begun!'  
  
He watched as the sun set behind the horizon. As the red washed over his tired features it reminded him of a home he had left again and how much he wished he were back there in front of the fire with a hot strong cup of tea and of how much he missed his dear friends.  
  
As the last rays disappeared, Frodo started to look around for a suitable camping ground, he was near a forest but he didn't dare go in for fear of leading dangerous animals to him with the smell of his own blood.  
  
After a few more minutes of searching on foot he found a dead and hollow tree which was big enough for him and Kingston to shelter for the night.  
  
After, when he pulled off what he needed for the night from his pony's back, he took the bridle and bit out of Kingston's mouth and hanged the gear on a branch that grew on the inside of the hollowed tree.  
  
"I am sorry that I can not take off the burden on your back but if I need to get away quick enough I need a way to keep myself seated." Then he chuckled and patted Kingston's head. "I cannot ride as well as Pippin and have no idea how to control an unsaddled horse let along a pony."  
  
Kingston snorted which sounded like he was saying: 'I understand, but thankyou anyway for taking the bit out of my mouth.'  
  
Frodo layed his thick blanket on the ground but before he layed down himself he placed another one on the pony and fed him and himself some rationed lambas.  
  
"Sleep well, my friend. For we have a long journey ahead of us little pony." He said with a yawn.  
  
With that Frodo settled down and while he waited for sleep to come to gather him in it's blissful darkness he listened to the nights beautiful but sad music that came from and within the forest.  
  
~*~  
  
The fellowship, meanwhile, were stuck in a storm that had sneaked it's way onto them. Now they were soaked to the skin, cold, grumpy and not to mention . . .  
  
"I'm hungry," Pippin said quietly as he huddled next to Sam and Merry, who were huddled under a small tree and trying to keep warm, while the storm raged around them.  
  
"We are too, Peregrin," Merry snapped. "So stop complaining!"  
  
"I remember the days when you weren't so snappy," Pippin mused as he brushed water from his forehead that dripped down from his drowned curls which were beyond saving because of the storm.  
  
"I never was nor am I now snappy!" his cousin stated back.  
  
"You never were snappy?" Pippin asked trying his older cousins patience.  
  
"Will you two be quiet?!" Sam said as he shivered beneath his elvan cloak. "To answer the question yes, Merry, you were always snappy and in a foul mood when it was raining especially when your stuck in it. Remember that day when we got stuck in that ditch because of the pony we had borrowed from old Proudfoot?"  
  
"Do not remind me for it was the cause of my disliking of ponies and water, even though every hobbit has a healthy respect for the water." Merry grumbled as he suppressed the memory.  
  
"It was quite funny when he got stuck in the mud and when he thought nothing could get worse, it rained! Then we had to wait till it dried because his feet were to deep to dig out during the storm." Pippin said as he let the memory take him away from the cold and hunger.  
  
All of the sudden all three, including Merry, burst out laughing.  
  
After a while all was quiet, then Pippin said, in an almost wishful tone. "Wish it were like that again."  
  
The rest of the fellowship, which and been listening quietly, grunted in agreement.  
  
~*~  
  
The sun rose from it's absences and greeted grey clouds for it was still raining in Middle-Earth.  
  
Frodo awoke feeling stiff, sore and still in pain. He was lying on his stomach with his arms under his belly while his head rested on his cloak, beneath another thick blanket.  
  
Yawning he sat up and while rubbing the sleep out of his eyes was greeted with a small nickering along with hot breath on the back of his neck.  
  
"Good morning, Kingston," he replied sleepily, and he took a look outside which mad him groan inwardly. He didn't hate the rain, it was just he would be in it, so he wasn't too happy.  
  
Kingston, on the other hand, looked quite content and didn't seem to mind that he would be trudging in the cold, wet mud in a few minutes.  
  
But fifteen minutes later and after much slipping, sliding and near misses of greeting trees head-on, the two started to think that maybe just maybe it wasn't such a brilliant idea to not wait the storm out.  
  
While trotting through a small non-looking boggy valley Kingston's front right hoof slouched into a hidden hole and no matter how much he tried, he nor his rider could free it.  
  
"Looks like we're stuck, Kingston, my friend." Frodo said patting Kingston's neck.  
  
He walked to the saddle bags and pulled the thick blanket out again and threw it over Kingston's back. He then stood in front, under the blanket with Kingston's head on his right shoulder listening to the quiet breathing of the pony which was deep and rhythmic.  
  
A few hours later, however, both started to feel the cold starting to take a toll on them, both were coughing and had runny noses that was hard for them to keep dry.  
  
Suddenly a lighting bolt struck, which made Kingston rear in fright, while nocking Frodo face-first into the mud. Kingston's hoof was free but he didn't bolt, instead he stood still and he nuzzled his wet friend which resulted in pushing Frodo further into the mud. A few seconds later Frodo rose his head and wiped the mud out of his eyes.  
  
"Seeming that you pushed me in, could you be ever so kind to pull me out?" he said calmly.  
  
The pony nodded his head up and down also resulting in spraying Frodo with water and completely washing his face revealing a cut above his right eyebrow.  
  
Kingston walked up as close as he could and lowered his reins to the mud- ridden hobbit. Frodo took them gratefully and mounted again.  
  
Then Frodo's sharp ears picked up a sound.  
  
A roaring sound.  
  
A roaring watery sound.  
  
He turned his head, his soaked curls flinging into his eyes. Swiping them clumsily away he stared into what he thought was his and Kingston's death.  
  
"Noro lim, Kingston.*" Frodo cried in elfish surprising himself.  
  
The ponies ears pricked and he lunged froward with such force he nearly unseated Frodo. He charged forward further into the valley and pounded the ground hard, leaving deep hoof-prints behind.  
  
But within a few seconds the water started lapping at Kingston's hooves and it seemed that his speed was not going to be enough.  
  
"Noro limer, Kingston, vell.*" Frodo screamed in terror. Kingston hesitated, but only a second then suddenly he veered to the left nearly unseating his rider again.  
  
The black pony ran as hard as he could and, with all the strength he could muster, jumped up the bank of the riverbed.  
  
Only the side was too steep and wet from the days downpour and Kingston slid back down leading deep tracks from where his hooves had been.  
  
But he refused to give up and so, with a last burst of speed and strength born purely because of the riding Pippin put him through, leapt and tucked all four legs under him so as to not get tripped by any twigs.  
  
He landed perfectly on all four feet but didn't accomplish keeping his rider on his back, for he sent Frodo backward and toward the river that now raged beneath them.  
  
Frodo had actually lost his grip on the reins and when he fell back the only thing that he could grab was . . . you guessed it . . . Kingston's tail.  
  
Kingston screamed in pain and beared his teeth. He was about to kick out in fright when he remembered who he had on his back.  
  
Gasping for breath and shaking from curly head to furry toe Frodo called gently to the frighted and exhausted pony.  
  
"Forward, Kingston my friend, forward." Slowly, but surly, Kingston steeped forward and within a few minutes both were safe and sound on the ground that assured that no raging river of death would come after them. Both watched the water with a sigh and thanked all the gods for sparing their lives.  
  
"I hate the rain." Frodo grumbled as a second lighting bolt struck nearby starling both the pony and himself.  
  
~*~  
  
With the other's, however, they wished that the gods would save their lives. They had all fallen asleep and woken to the sound of growling.  
  
It was Legolas who had first awoken and saw nothing but the yellow eyes of a she-wolf a few meters away. Slowly and quietly he pulled his knife from his waist and then with such speed, force and grace jumped over the wolf.  
  
It was only then that he had realised his fatal mistake, for he hadn't (as he had hoped) cleared the wolf-pack, instead he'd landed right in the middle of the beasts.  
  
A few seconds later he heard a cry of surprise. Quickly turning he saw Sam struggling with a male wolf. In an effort to give himself a better chance at surviving, Sam had ripped a thick stick from it very trunk and was whacking the male in the face.  
  
This only made the pack more determined at having these trespassers for their meal.  
  
By now all were awake and frighting with a wolf, the ponies had even joined in.  
  
Bill was kicking out with his back feet while Brandy and Frost hit out with their front hooves. Legolas's horse, Arana, had decided she had had enough and let lose a fierce cry making all the wolves hesitate in their savagery.  
  
Then Shadowfax joined in with Arana's cry, he reared and slammed down his hooves with such force that sparks jumped from where his hooves landed.  
  
The wolves stoped at what they were doing and looked around them. The leader, sensing defeat and anger, let out a howl and with that they all fled into the forest.  
  
All of the fellowship including the ponies and horses watched the wolves retreat into the surrounding forest, they sighed deeply and threw aside their crude weapons.  
  
During the short fight the rain had stopped, and the first few rays of sunlight said that morning had broken.  
  
A few minutes later they were packed and ready to go. But it was too quiet, until Pippin decided to sing.  
  
"Morning has broken,  
  
Like the first morning.  
  
Black-bird has spoken,  
  
Like the first bird.  
  
Praise for the singing,  
  
Praise for the morning,  
  
Praise for them springing.  
  
Fresh from the world."  
  
His voice flowed through each and everyone of them and, when it had died, all felt a strange connection with the sunrise that greeting them, a sense of deep calmness.  
  
Bill, Brandy, Frost, Shadowfax and Arana felt the fear leave them and settled down for they knew if they were too alert then their energy would be wasted on fear and none would be left for the long journey ahead.  
  
~*~  
  
From a cave not to far away a soaking pony and boy watched the rain lessen then the sunlight rays burst into lighting the caves inside leaving no shadow.  
  
During the fierce storm both Frodo and Kingston had almost given up hope on finding a shelter that was enough to cover both of them, of course there were many places for a hobbit to fit quite comfortably in but Frodo had refused point blank to leave his fateful friend out to battle a cold night.  
  
His shoulder was paining him again so he rubbed at it absently before looking at the damp creature beside him, who was looking outside quietly.  
  
"I think I will walk beside you today, Kingston as you have done enough. I, for one, still have the burses from last night and do not wish to agitate them." He said this as he packed the now ruined blanket into the saddlebags.  
  
When he had packed everything he leaned up against his black friend, head on the saddle and sighed. But not from boredom or pain but from sheer exhaustion. The last few days were starting to take a toll on Frodo's health again and he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold on for.  
  
"It took almost over a year for me to complete this task before let it be, for goodness sake, less." He sighed deeply again, took Kingston's flapping reins then walked along the path.  
  
Both had started to lose the will for the journey but something kept them going, Frodo nor Kingston knew what it was but if they'd took enough time to think about it, they may have agreed that it was each other that kept the other one going.  
  
~*~  
  
Through the forest swift creatures pounded through the water soaked ground. They had smelled the blood of an injured creature accompanied by a beast on four legs, both were small, tired, weak and starting to lose hope of their journey ahead.  
  
This made the leader, Ashok, growl with pleasure. He liked nothing better than easy meat. It had been long since he and his pack had eaten a decent meal. A few weeks ago to be more precised.  
  
He barked a signal and raced faster towards his prey.  
  
~*~  
  
Both pony and hobbit were walking with eyes staring at the path their gaze only looking up if a strange smell or sound was on the wind.  
  
Half a day after the events at the river both heard a sound that chilled them to the very core of their souls. Howls of a pack on the hunt not far from where they were and getting closer at every breath.  
  
It confused Frodo, he turned round a couple of times to try to pinpoint where the sounds were coming from.  
  
Then strangely the sounds disappeared leaving nothing for the ears of Frodo and Kingston to hear and it made the two of them very, very nervous.  
  
Both eased their guard down a little but continued to be weary of the sudden silence. Frodo, who was a meter or so away walked up to Kingston.  
  
"I think it best we leave . . . and at a run I might add." Upon reaching the pony, Frodo threw himself up into the saddle in a manner that would have been applauded by any ranger.  
  
"Kingston we must ride and fast if we are to survive this stretch of the journey." Kingston snorted in response which was his version of an agreement. "I know you are tired of galloping and wish to be back home in you stable but I promise you, when this is over you'll never have to carry me again."  
  
Suddenly Kingston's ears pricked up and he started to dance where he stood making it all the obvious for both of them to get out of there.  
  
As Kingston's prancing started so did the howling. The wolves were crying for their blood! And by the sound of it nothing would keep them away.  
  
"GO!!" Frodo screamed which made the pony surge froward and pound his way from the wolves that were telling them that they were their next meal.  
  
A few seconds later, Kingston never knew what had hit him.  
  
Both Frodo and Kingston felt a great force upon his rump, he and Frodo looked back to find a male wolf had jumped on the ponies back and was about to attempt to knock the rider off, letting the rest of the pack take care of him while he delt with the black-hoofed beast.  
  
Kingston had just about enough of this, first he was taken out of his nice warm stable and forced to gallop hard and fast for seven days then after three weeks he was taken out again and since then had just berley escaped death more than any sensible pony should.  
  
He kicked out fast and hard but the wolf stayed on, he did it a couple more times and on the sixth buck succeeded in throwing off the wolf.  
  
"You could try bucking a little softer next time." His rider gasped in pain. "That's the fourth time you've almost lost me."  
  
Kingston impatiently whinnied as if to say: 'You've seriously been keeping count?!'  
  
Before either Kingston or Frodo could say another word a wolf came out of nowhere jumped and tore Frodo from the saddle.  
  
The hobbits first reaction was to kick and scream but somehow his voice failed him. He and the wolf stopped tumbling and landed in a patch of dirt.  
  
For a second that contained an eternity he and the wolf just stared into each others eyes. One murderous hatred and the other with fear mixed with confusion.  
  
Then the wolf blinked and snorted uncertain of what to do next. It was clear that this wolf was inexperienced and this was it's first hunt.  
  
Frodo took advantage.  
  
He hadn't fought for his life and won by lying down and staring the enemy in the eye, instead he had gotten up and fought with all he could. And this time he had the fighting advantage.  
  
Unfortunately he realise he was alone and that Kingston was no where in sight, looking around frantically with the wolf still on him he suddenly caught a glimpse of the pack of eight.  
  
He was completely out numbered.  
  
~*~  
  
"How far do you think Frodo is?" Sam asked Aragorn as they walked with the ponies.  
  
"I think he may be two or three days the most." Then he added at the look on Sam's face. "He'll survive, he's a strong hobbit. You need to have more faith in him Samwise, otherwise he'll lose his."  
  
"I hope he doesn't lose his faith. It's just I'm worried sick . . . him running off and taking Pippin's best pony!"  
  
"I don't mind," Pippin piped up. "I think my dear Kingston could do with an adventure or two, as long as he comes back that is."  
  
~*~  
  
If only Pippin knew what an adventure his pony was having.  
  
The wolf had scared the pony out of his mind and he ran as hard and fast as he could, while galloping for his life a nagging feeling wouldn't disappear from the back of his mind. His back was lighter and it was much easier to run and that troubled him some.  
  
His panicked mind kept telling him to go back for some reason, but for what Kingston didn't have a clue. Then it hit him.  
  
Frodo was back there and he was in serious trouble.  
  
Kingston reared, turned, and galloped towards the place that he least hoped to go back to.  
  
As he galloped, a wind whistled through the trees and it kicked up dirt from the ground stinging Kingston's sensitive eyes, yet he breathed in hard and with that noticed the smell of blood tainted within the breeze. This made him more reluctant to greet his fate of fighting with his rider for what would soon be both of their lives.  
  
But when he got back there, it was total chaos. It seemed the wolf pack that had attacked had gone into another territory and now SIXTEEN wolves were fighting over territory.  
  
Frodo, however, layed on the ground apparently forgotten for the moment. He was bleeding from a leg and arm wound and were both seeping the red liquid rapidly from their openings. His sweat-soaked face had various scratches on it and they showed more clearly because of his pale and frightened features.  
  
Kingston stopped and whinnied to his temporary master and only friend in this god forsaken land. Frodo looked up and motioned for him to go away.  
  
But the little black pony was about to prove that he wasn't going to travel a long way from home and lose his rider to a mangy pack of wolves.  
  
He stood his ground, took a beep breath, and whinnied a challenge to the beasts. They stopped at their quarrelling and looked at him. He screamed his challenge again, hoping to get them away from his friend so he could escape to safer ground of maybe up a tree.  
  
Kingston was hoping to get a head start but it quickly and terribly turned against him.  
  
They all leapt at once their jaws dripping and drooling saliva that was blood red.  
  
Kingston never had a chance.  
  
Until Frodo stepped in that is.  
  
He picked up stones and threw them at the wolves, hitting them with accuracy between the eyes and he didn't hold back on force either. He threw as if there was no tomorrow and the wolves didn't seem to interested to see what else he had in store for them. The pack that had first chased them figured that this was too much for a meal of one small human (no they had never met hobbits before) and fled back to their own territory. The second, however, hadn't been chasing meals for over a week and so were still full of energy.  
  
"KINGSTON!" Frodo yelled as a huge alpha male jumped and tared into Kingston's left hoof. The pony screamed in terror and pain. He reared and kicked out. His other hoof caught the wolf on the side of the head and he dropped like a sack of potatoes.  
  
The wolves stopped and backed away a little. They had looks of disbelief on their faces. How could two such tiny creatures cause such pain? All looked at one another and disappeared leaving the wolf leader alone.  
  
They would come back for him later . . . when the two creatures had gone.  
  
Frodo hobbled over to his pony and flung his arms around the sweaty neck of his savour and friend.  
  
"Your a brave, brave pony Kingston," he murmured to the animal. "And I am glad you are my friend."  
  
The blood covered and exhausted pony sighed deeply in response.  
  
Two days later both were walking the trail side by side only because Kingston's foot couldn't take the weight of both hobbit and luggage. And instead of getting rid of their precious cargo Frodo decided to walk beside his pony and take his time.  
  
Day turned to night and with eating little and drinking hardly any water both pony and hobbit felt terrible.  
  
Frodo looked at his wound again and was startled to see deep red blood instead of it being bright. It worried him that something was going to happen and he was powerless to stop it.  
  
Suddenly he felt light-headed, all shaky and felt as if he couldn't go on anymore.  
  
He sighed in pain and put his hand to his shoulder, but only for a few seconds.  
  
Frodo layed down on the cold and wet ground, not caring anymore if he died where he was or who would find him.  
  
"Just don't let it be Sam," he whispered aloud. "Anyone but him . . . not like this anyway."  
  
Kingston noticed how cold the boy was and put his nose against his neck and breathed hot air on it but the only response he got was Frodo pushing him away.  
  
"Kingston, do you mind? I'm busy sitting here dying in the cold."  
  
But the black pony refused to let him be. Instead of being discouraged he layed down next to the shivering hobbit and leaned as best as he could near him enough to keep him warm.  
  
Frodo smiled but moaned in pain again, he rubbed his shoulder hoping to clear away the pain that was clouding his senses.  
  
The clouds cleared letting the moon and her daughters the stars shine down on the path as if trying to show the way home for them.  
  
He looked up at the black sky and saw a single star that stood out vividly in the lights that surrounded it and remembered something that Aragorn had murmured . . . a simple man poem.  
  
"Star light, star bright,  
  
First star I see tonight,  
  
I wish I may,  
  
I wish I might,  
  
Receive the wish,  
  
That I have wished tonight."  
  
He leaned into and against the warm body of Kingston's coat then made the wish that both pony and hobbit wanted.  
  
"I want to go home."  
  
  
  
TBC . . .  
  
~*~  
  
That Chapter sucked didn't it?  
  
By the way I have just finished this chapter and the time is 9:08 on a Tuesday night in April 9th 2002 :-)  
  
A/N: Mmmm is Frodo having second thoughts? Well, you just have to wait until the next chapter to find out (I'm sounding like JK Rowling ain't I?)  
  
Did you like the Cat Steven song that I slipped in? It's called "Morning has broken," and it's one of my fave's  
  
This was what Frodo cried in the valley when the flood nearly got them.  
  
* Run fast, Kingston."  
  
* Run faster, Kingston, dear."  
  
Did you know the name Arana is actually an aboriginal word meaning Moon? I though it was a cool name and it kinda sounded a little elfish.  
  
A Few Questions  
  
Q1. Between the two (I'm only asking) who do YOU think should die: Kingston or Frodo?  
  
Q2. Who do you like out of the ponies? Frost, Brandy or Kingston?  
  
Q3. If Frodo & Kingston do LIVE should Pippin give Kingston to him?  
  
Q4. Do you like the ponies and horse that I've put in the story, do you want any character development with one? (I'll be glad to write a separate story)  
  
Q5. Do you think I should change the title of the story?  
  
My Birthday was on the second of April and all I got to do was go to Bankstown! Then one of my most hated relativities decided to pop her cogs so basically it was a pretty crappy birthday. Problem is most of them are crappy for me every year.  
  
Well, at the Royal Easter Show I got 4th place in the Dairy Goats Parades, a Highly Commended in another Parades and 3rd for going in the place of another bloke who was busy and I'm a FINALIST for JUDGING I actually lost it and had a panic attack afterwards. BUT would you believe it I FORGOT MY WRITING BOOK so I didn't get anything done for the 4th chapter. Sorry!  
  
**!!!PLEASE READ!!!**  
  
Do any of you guys want to see what I look like? Well go to this web sight!  
  
http://www.schools.nsw.edu.au/events/eastershow/april4.php  
  
Or go too  
  
http://www.schools.nsw.edu.au/index.php  
  
Now I'm the person with the White Goat with the caption: Easter Show Diary: Final Day. And you should find me.  
  
Tell me what you guys think too.  
  
P.S. The goats name is Chrisma. She's not my show animal though, Cleo is. 


	5. If I Should Fall From Grace

A/N: I'm not to sure if I this is the last chapter but let's see what develops in this one, what do you people reckon? Also I haven't read TTT or ROTK so if something's are there (like the bridge in Mora) haven't been removed it is because this fellow author is too lazy and lacking an imagination at the time of the writing of this story.  
  
For my English teacher, Mr Ecclestion, who taught me how to read and write and who also keeps my feet on the ground but let's me fly in my mind with my stories.  
  
Chapter Four: If I Should Fall From Grace  
  
A week later and neither Kingston nor Frodo were doing any better after the wolf attack. In fact, health in both of them was starting to deteriorate at an alarming rate. Kingston's left hoof was swollen twice it's size and he was finding it hard to carry both rider and equipment. So, to make it easier on the animal, Frodo walked beside him and helped carry half of the supplies.  
  
If both thought it was hard then they had no idea of what was ahead of them. Caradhras was their next destination but Frodo didn't much care where he and the pony went.  
  
Due to both of their injures, the climb that awaited them would seem almost unbearable to their batted and bruised bodies and would test their survival for sure.  
  
It took two days to finally reach Caradhras's foot. The icy white mountain glared down at them as it sent down it's snowflake messengers telling them to turn back from it. The wind, which whirled around them, told of coming cold weather and frigid nights.  
  
Frodo looked up and stopped, memories flooding his conscious mind. He sighed, but something told him not to give up so easily. At this decision he gritted his teeth in defiance and suddenly felt a hot, surging wave of some strange mixture of pride, anger, and awe filling and overflowing from his heart at the sight of the great mountains.  
  
Kingston looked wearily up and nickered which sounded like: 'We're climbing that? You've GOT to be kidding me.'  
  
They were tantalisingly near to Moria, and Frodo was desperate to get it over and done with. His shoulder was hurting him badly and the flow of blood hadn't lessened at all. The whole side of his left was covered in blood that was both bight and dark, clotted and watery.  
  
Pony and hobbit both agreed upon camping that night before climbing the treacherous mountain. After a few hours of searching they found a suitable enough cave for them to attempt to light a small fire for the night. After having some sun dried meat, which was quite tasteful along with some lambas, the two of them settled down for the night, with the fire crackling merrily beside the sleeping boy and snoozing pony.  
  
While it was warm inside the cave the weather outside was something to consider. It seemed something knew of what Frodo was trying to accomplish and it tried in every way to make sure that he didn't climb the mountain.  
  
A few hours later, daylight broke through the tiny holes in the grey and miserable clouds which, with the snow still falling, it gave the illusion that angels with beacons of light were searching for him.  
  
It was mighty cold in the cave now that the fire had gone out during the night, but Kingston had layed beside Frodo, once more proving that a pony could be of more use than a simple beast of burden.  
  
Frodo looked out into the snow with frustration written on all of his features, he sighed deeply and started packing. Kingston got up and out of the way.  
  
"I think I will leave the blankets out today, Kingston. For it is very cold and I do not want the both of us to catch a dreadful cold."  
  
He placed the thickest blanket over Kingston's whole body tying it securely with bits of rope. He tacked the pony up and warped a thick blanket around himself.  
  
"I am lucky I packed enough blankets that were from Rivendell," he muttered more to himself than Kingston, "otherwise we would be frozen corpses in the snow."  
  
He did not like the idea of being cooped up and in darkness for days on end with Kingston. Then it occurred to him, they hadn't taken Bill in with them on their previous journey so how did he expect Kingston to survive? Surly the dear pony would get depressed without the light to shine on him and the filth on the ground wouldn't do any good for his injured hoof.  
  
Frodo sighed deeply. "What am I to do?" he asked the pony. "I do not think that you can make a journey like one I am about to enter. I don't want to put you through more pain than you already are in."  
  
Kingston pushed his nose against Frodo's chest, leaving it damp. "What?" he asked and stopped his rambling. "You think you can do it?"  
  
Kingston snorted.  
  
"Well," he pondered for a moment. "It will slow me down by weeks and I don't think I would like it if the others should catch up . . . especially Pippin." He grinned sheepishly at the pony.  
  
Kingston pawed the ground eager to get going and get the mountain behind him, Frodo seemed to sense this and his spirits rose a little.  
  
He had made his mind up.  
  
"Then, if you want to come, you shall."  
  
~*~  
  
"Have you made you mind up or not?" Sam asked impatiently.  
  
"But I don't know what to leave behind!" Pippin whined.  
  
"Oh that's easy," his cousin fumed. "You leave this and that and that, and what the . . ." Merry had been tossing various items out when he found a grubby old teddy bear.  
  
By the looks it was very old and very loved. It's brown fur had been worn and fallen out from being hugged. The bears green eyes were still in place but had somehow lost it's fire, even though it was a still object.  
  
Pippin blushed and snatched at the bear.  
  
"I remember him." Merry said brightly. "I gave him to you when you were six and had been caught by you father raiding the pantry."  
  
"I can still feel the wacks." Pippin shuddered.  
  
"I am curious," Legolas asked, "why did he get a bear when he was doing wrong?"  
  
"Well . . . uh . . . the best scones were on the bottom and he was over when I was peckish, and well, he was the only one to fit."  
  
"Then my father caught me and along with being banned from eating my favourite sweets I got three wacks from his new belt."  
  
Legolas seemed to take that as an excuse and helped Pippin pack what he needed, leaving what they didn't in a place that they would come back to.  
  
If they came back.  
  
"We must leave now, for if we are to reach Frodo we need to keep going." Aragorn said, slinging his pack onto his back.  
  
"A thought has just struck me," Pippin said suddenly, pausing in his mid- pack of Bill. "What if the wolves that attacked us went for him?"  
  
Gandalf turned to Pippin. "He has encountered many perils before, knowing Frodo, he has only received minor scratches and bruises, I am sure he is fine.  
  
How very wrong he was. ~*~  
  
Frodo collapsed into the snow, defeated.  
  
He knew he was being stupid by not going through the mines of Moria as he had when the first quest was on. Instead he convinced the pony and himself that they could do it. Kingston stood beside him panting distraughtly, his hoof lifted off of the ground and most likely frozen.  
  
They just stood there, to exhausted to go on, and not really wanting to. Memories flooded Frodo's mind reminding him of home he'd left behind and one he'd probably never see again, knowing him in his current condition.  
  
Rubbing his numb shoulder out of habit rather than to ease the in it, he realised his vision had become blurry and he couldn't see. Panicking slightly he drew his hand across his eyes and was startled to find tears. He'd been crying and hadn't even known it.  
  
Suddenly, without warning, he burst into stronger tears that racked his already thing frame, crappy food, little water and in constant pain and cold from the journey had built up to him finally breaking his banks.  
  
Kingston watched intriguingly as Frodo got up and tore everything from his saddlebags. The hobbit ripped off the ponies pack, throwing things and baggage's all over the snow, thankfully it was a clear day and no wind was driving it's force otherwise he'd lost everything in a few seconds.  
  
The rage continued, and as it did Frodo continued to throw and scream things such as, "I never asked for this," and "This was never meant to happed to me or my friends."  
  
After throwing everything around he tripped and fell face first into the snow half burying himself, he continued to sob and wish he was back home.  
  
"Sam, Merry, and Pippin. I shall never see them again." He pulled himself up and continued to curse. "Because? Because for what? A greedy dark lord who wanted to control a land that hated and despised him." As he yelled those words a blinding pain ripped through his body causing him to fall with a yell.  
  
He layed there, shivering for the rage had fled his body and left him more exhausted than before. Breathing shakily he lifted his head to stare at the small black pony, who for the past few weeks had become his world of hope and life.  
  
"I have fallen from grace." Frodo muttered and pulled himself into a sitting position. "And I do not know how to get back on."  
  
Kingston just stared at him, ears pricked forward. Frodo could almost imagine him saying: 'You feel better? Cause even though I didn't make a fool of myself, I sure do. Now let's clean this mess up and get going to Moria, what do you say, you silly hobbit?'  
  
Somehow, Kingston's look brought humour to Frodo, who smiled weakly, he slowly pulled himself to his feet and began picking up his mess of rage, after a few minutes everything was packed and they climbed down the mountain to meet their fate at Moria.  
  
~*~  
  
Not too far away were seven tired adventures.  
  
All, except Gandalf, Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli, collapsed. And now a little while later a fire crackled merrily in front of them.  
  
They were all a little down spirited but not as Sam. He'd been rather quiet for a few days now, hardly eating and only talking when talked too.  
  
After a while Merry became concerned with this behaviour and waited for a time when Sam was along (which as hard, as Aragorn was keeping a close eye on him) that opportunity came when they came across a small river and he'd approached him. Unfortunately Aragorn had called them, saying it was time for them to move on.  
  
So, when everyone else was asleep and Legolas was out of sight, he again approached Sam.  
  
"Sam? Are you awake?"  
  
Sam said nothing.  
  
Merry chose not to do anything that would make him regret being born so he gently shook the gardener.  
  
"But mama the pony's to big to ride."  
  
Merry would have laughed if had come from Sam instead it came from Pippin as he rolled over. The hobbit just rolled his eyes and continued to shake Sam awake.  
  
"What is Mr Merry? Is something wrong?"  
  
"Yes," said Merry quietly. "you." "Me?" he asked confused. "Why?" "You are too quiet, even for you. You hardly eat, talk and you've seemed to have lost hope in this quest."  
  
Legolas quietly listened a little away, he didn't need to walk closer for his sharp ears picked up the talk. Which was somehow helping Sam a little.  
  
" . . . and here I am worrying about how the garden is and not about Mr Frodo, and . . . and what a fix I've put us all in by not going to Rivendell sooner." He said all this quite fast but a listening Merry caught every word.  
  
Suddenly Merry punched Sam fast and hard.  
  
"Sorry," said Merry quickly.  
  
Sam raised a shaking hand and felt his throbbing jaw. "You . . . you hit me!"  
  
"I had to make you snap out of it somehow, otherwise you'd have drowned in self-guilt or whatever it's called." Merry promptly responded.  
  
"You cheeky hobbit."  
  
Merry just smiled at him. "Well, I got you to stop thinking about it didn't I?" he asked innocently.  
  
"Thankyou my friend." Sam said gratefully. ~*~  
  
(This Mine scene is based on the movie cause I haven't read this part in the book)  
  
Something was odd. Odd about the doorway that is. The two looked at each other in confusion, for this was a queer situation indeed.  
  
Even though the door had been completely destroyed by Watcher in the Water a while back, it now stood as if it had never been disturbed or destroyed by a monster.  
  
"Some dwarfs must have reclaimed their mine from the goblins." Frodo muttered. "Or else there is a much more powerful force in there."  
  
Kingston looked up wearily at the door as the moon and starlight struck it. He threw his head a little when out of nowhere an arc appeared in golden Quenya marking the Mines of Moria entrance.  
  
"Well, Kingston, my little friend," the hobbit murmured. "Take a look around here because you will not see it for four to five days."  
  
The pony just snorted and pulled on the reins.  
  
"I hope this eagerness isn't going to be permanent. Because I think you will change you mind." He said this as he prepared a torch with a wrapped piece of rag that was once an old shirt. "Let's hope the journey through here is much more smoother than the last."  
  
Frodo muttered the password after a few minutes of trying to remember it. When the doors opened to let the 'friends' in they walked with a strange spring in their faltering steps.  
  
Hours or days later, Frodo couldn't tell, the torch still burned brightly and with it warmth. This brought some comfort to the two travellers and lifted their spirits which had sunk, due to the fact of complete darkness which was as solid as a wall could be, except this was a wall that you could walk through but were in danger of walking into another.  
  
After having nothing to do his mind started to wonder. What did Gimli the Dwarf see in this place. It sure wasn't beauty or life, for it showed neither in Frodo's eyes. Then from his subconscious he then remembered of the things that the dwarf had told him about.  
  
It was back when the First Quest had taken part in this place. He'd been feeling the weight of the Ring when he heard Pippin request a story to lighten the mood of the members.  
  
"Well, young hobbit." Gimli had started. "These very walls were made from the very best of the builders, not that I'm saying we dwarfs are not terrific builders, but the room we cross now was chosen for banquets and feasts that took place when we had other royalty here."  
  
He then moved on to battles and conquests of treasure and wealth. How these halls were filled with light glinting on fine gold treasures, goblets, candelabras, necklaces and how legend told of treasure being made of pure substance that would make you live forever or turn anything to gold.  
  
Suddenly, to Frodo anyway, Moria suddenly did not seem so dark or unpleasant.  
  
Just then he realised he had crossed into the place where Pippin had touched the skeleton which had fallen down the well.  
  
"The silly hobbit didn't learn his lesson there, though." Frodo muttered remembering Gandalf's story of when his cousin had touched the plantar.  
  
The chamber was lit by a wide shaft high in the further eastern wall; it slanted upwards and, far above, a small square patch of blue sky could be seen. The light of the shaft fell directly on a table in the middle of the room: a single, oblong block, about two feet high, upon which was laid a great slab of white stone.  
  
Frodo looked at the tomb with tired and weary eyes. He hated death, in every form. Whether it was murder, natural or sacrificial, that was the one thing, in his view anyway, that he didn't agree with.  
  
He and Kingston walked on without looking back.  
  
***  
  
The bridge.  
  
Kingston and Frodo had spent hours climbing and slipping down the stares that led to the bridge of Karzard Doom.  
  
He now stood there, looking like a child who'd lost their way in the world. The little pony stood next to him, munching on some lembas and paying no attention to his wound.  
  
Frodo remembered how Gandalf had fallen into the shadow, whispering 'fly, you fools.' He had to remind himself that Gandalf was, in fact, alive and well.  
  
A few hours later they walked out to the sunlight, which assaulted their now darkness-keen eyes. The pair closed them in defence and opened them slowly.  
  
"Kingston, I think we should stop at Lorien, for I am afraid I am beginning to feel most terrible and I can not go on like this much longer, and neither can you."  
  
Kingston just nodded his head and looked at Frodo with his dark eyes.  
  
~*~  
  
All were on horse back. Merry on Brandy, Pippin on Frost, Gimli with Legolas on Arana, Aragorn on Bow a cross of Arabian and Anderlusion, Gandalf on Shadowfax and Sam on his beloved Bill.  
  
It was for the reason that they hoped to catch up with their missing companion rather than for pleasure, even though Frost and Brandy knew how to race Arana, the elf-horse.  
  
"Halt!" Legolas cried suddenly. His sharp eyes had caught something on the trail. He sprung off Arana and bent down to investigate further.  
  
The tips of his long fingers touched the liquid as Aragorn dismounted from his horse Bow, he then came and knelt next to the elf.  
  
"It is blood, but a few hours long."  
  
"You are right, but something tells me it's been here for a few days, two at the most." Aragorn said as he rubbed the clotting contense between his fingers.  
  
"Do you think it could be Frodo?" Legolas whispered, so none of the other hobbits could hear.  
  
"It is possible." Aragorn hushed his own voice for the same reason. "He was rather sickly even after he was healed."  
  
"You fear for his life then?"  
  
"Yes, for this is of great concern, the blood is as old as he is ahead of us." Aragorn confirmed his fears.  
  
"And what do we do if we come across his body?"  
  
"Let us hope it doesn't come to that." The ranger replied looking at the rest of the Company.  
  
~*~  
  
The luggage caused his footing to be sluggish and unco-ordinated, so adding to his humiliation and pain, he stumbled and onto that soggy ground.  
  
Slowly, he lifted his face out of the moss and unidentifiable vegetation then wiped his mouth. Frodo was about to stand up when he something caught his eye.  
  
A small dribble of blood was meandering it's way down his fingers to fall into the crook of where they met his palm.  
  
Blood?  
  
Surely it had come from his injured shoulder. Not anywhere else.  
  
A coughing fit seized the young hobbit, causing him to double over in an attempt to reclaim his breath before he fainted. This did nothing for his burning lungs and he weakly fell to his knees, his head sweaty spinning from lack of oxygen.  
  
Finally, the fit left his tired and ragged body, leaving him gasping. His breath coming in wheezes and light coughs that worsened the pain in his shoulder. Frodo clutched at it, moaning and wondering how long before he was going to be left in peace.  
  
Then Kingston's ears pricked up and he looked around with great interest in the Golden Wood. Suddenly he let loose a deep and loud shriek. He stood listening for a moment or two before letting loose another sound. It was as if a drum had been struck in the pony's throat and he had only realised how to strum it. Again he whinnied and this time Frodo took action.  
  
"Kingston! Please!" he pleaded. "Be quiet. I do not need to be shot down with arrows, especially elf ones."  
  
The pony didn't seem to hear him and kept up his act, all the while looking around with bright and alert eyes. The hobbit grabbed him by the reins and yanked his head down to his level. "Hold you tongue or we shall be in peril very soon." He released the reins and as soon as he had Kingston started whinnying.  
  
Suddenly something caught his eye and he reared in fright, knocking Frodo to the ground.  
  
In his blurry vision, he saw Kingston standing quietly and whinnying again and again. Then two slender figures knelt beside the fallen hobbit.  
  
And that's when blackness took over.  
  
Meanwhile . . . in a place not too far away . . .  
  
(A/N: I know I left this way, way, WAY to late but I was getting bored with the storyline and so I changed it a little. I hope you people like it and if it's a bit flawed . . . well, DEAL with it. It's only fanfiction people!)  
  
A gentle wind blew, making the leaves dance or shiver, whichever way you looked at it. And it made Athanasia breath in deeply just because she could and nothing could hold her back.  
  
Her gray eyes scanned the surroundings in which she and her friend, Hesperos, now stood.  
  
"Why, may I ask, have you brought me here." He huffed. He had never much liked Athanasia's adventurous side and he usually left and played with the other elf children when she showed it, but this time he decided to stick with her and see what came out of this.  
  
"I heard the calling of a pony, he was calling to us, saying he and his friend needed help." She said this like she was waking from a dream.  
  
"You are starting to sound like Galadriel you know that?"  
  
Athanasia chose to ignore that comment, instead she continued on gently pushing aside branches and other things that crossed her and Hesperos's path.  
  
"Are you SURE his voice carried all the way from here?"  
  
"Yes! Why do you always insist on making my journeys difficult and hard to complete?" she said and turned to him.  
  
Hesperos did not reply, instead he simply smiled and took her in his arms. "I fear for your safety and would forever hate myself if any harm were to come to you."  
  
Then he kissed her.  
  
So this was why he was always fidgety around her and seemed to be bursting from the inside out. He was in love with her.  
  
The two were 1,867 years old, ancient in out time but just teenagers in there's and he'd loved her since he was born. No since before he was born.  
  
Then a sound in the distance made them break apart. Each were breathing with pleasure and rather red in the face especially for an elf.  
  
"You see," she whispered to him. "I did hear something."  
  
"Yes, and I also see something." He breathed. "It is you and it will forever will be."  
  
"We'll get back to this moment, I promise, but I feel that something is in need of our help."  
  
With that, she sprung away and disappeared.  
  
For a while they both ran to where the pony's cries were coming, then there was silence and with that urgent murmuring, then again the pony started it's frantic whinnying. A few seconds later Hesperos picked up a stone and threw it. There was a frightened shriek and silence, looking out they saw something. There, in the clearing, they found a pony and a dark shape at the it's hooves. At this the two elves walked out to where the pony stood quietly and waited for their help.  
  
The dark shape at his hooves was that of a creature that had passed here only once. Immediately the two kneeled next to it.  
  
"It is a child," murmured Hesperos, as he engrossed himself in the warfare of the 'child'. "And he is injured."  
  
"Do you not listen to what the guardian Haldir teaches?" Athanasia smiled, at her friends foolishness. "This is a hobbit, all the way from the Shire. And by the looks of it, he looks as if he could be a member of Frodo Baggins. I have never asked why he and his companions were allowed to pass through the Golden Wood."  
  
Hesperos continued to investigate Frodo's injuries further. "He is also severely fevered. I do not know how he has stayed in this world so long."  
  
"Then we must hurry and fetch him help." Athanasia said standing up and brushing the soft dirt from her cloths. Without a second glance, she dashed into the forest with her friend crying after her.  
  
"Noro lim, Athanasia. I do not know how much longer he can hold on for!"  
  
Her feet softly pounded the damp earth and her breath was rythamtic with her running. She would make it in time, she couldn't say how she knew, she just did.  
  
Seconds later she came to where she was intended to reach. Quietly, even for an elf, she scampered up the staires and reached the healing house.  
  
"Vitaikin, are you home or am I talking to myself?" she whispered.  
  
"I am home. But I think it is most humorous when you do." Came the voice of Vitaikin. He was a tall, slender elf, his black hair swept back into many brainds that covered his whole head, other elves thought the look to be strange and even a little unerving. But both Hesperos and Athanasia thought it to be a help if battle ever broke out.  
  
"Vitaikin, remember that favor that you owe Herperos and I? Well, we may hav to use it now for we have a stranger at the edge of our very own woods and I fear that out Lady won't let him in. You must hurry for he is very ill and I am afraid he will no last very long."  
  
While she was explaining everything her friend packed his supplies in a small knapsack that was woven from the softest cloth.  
  
"By the descriptation of where this stranger lies I think I know of where he is. Now you mus stay here for I fear they will notice if the healing house is left empty, eventhough we never have use of it."  
  
With that he left her standing there. Only she had another way out.  
  
From the depths of her cloths she pulled out a golden necklace that had on it a ring.  
  
A very familiar ring.  
  
She quietly slipped on the piece of jewellery, disappeared and went after Vitaikin.  
  
A Few Weeks Before . . .  
  
"Now, what has caused you to walk out of the Golden Wood?" Athanasia asked herself as her feet traced the stones in the small stream. Her mind had been elsewhere and so, while following the stream, she soon found herself out of her beloved home.  
  
It wasn't to far and she could retrace her steps back anyway so instead of panicking she enjoyed herself more. The sunlight was liquid and fingered Athanasia's face and arms and each time she tried to take hold of it, it simply melted and fell onto the streams clear and beautiful water. The fish made daring games of swimming up and nibbling her toes, in return they world receive a tickle on the belly which they delighted in, they would then jump out of the gurgling stream and land with a small 'splash'. To Athanasia this was heaven.  
  
Then something golden caught her eye. She walked up to where the glint was and knelt beside it. She also noticed that the trout seemed to stay away from the object, which was strange because the ones in this stream were attracted to objects whether they be shiny and new or old and dull.  
  
Leaning closer she also knoticed that it was a ring. So without thinking she plunged her hand in and snagged it.  
  
It was warm.  
  
That was the first thing she observed when it was sefetly in her palm. And also, even though it sounded silly and someptly impossible, it seemed to be murmuring some unknown language which sounded strange and . . . evil.  
  
But how could a ring be evil.  
  
Where were the fish? Athanasia looked around and noticed that no fish of any type was in the stream anymore. Standing up she realised that it was suddenly growing dark.  
  
So pocketing the newly found treasure, she rushed on her unseen trail so she wouldn't get punished for being out at night.  
  
She failed to notice that the sun and fish came back when she had all but disappeared from their sight.  
  
TBC . . .  
  
~*~  
  
I would like to thank my friend Sarah Cooze for giving me the names of the three elf children. Sarah, you truly are: The Queen of Names.  
  
I would also like to apologise for the spelling of Lembas, I found out I was spelling like: lambas and realised my error and NO I'm not going to change it in the other chapters.  
  
And I need some ideas for the next chapter cause I'm running out. I'll dedicate the next chapter and use the idea that is choses.  
  
And remember to REVIEW!!!!!!!! 


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